She was an average American kid with middle-America values, growing up with others in the fabled baby-boom generation in the 60's. She was the daughter of a printing pressman and a homemaker from New Haven, Connecticut. The younger sister of a talented musical prodigy.
Karen Anne Carpenter was more or less dragged along for the ride when Harold Carpenter made the decision to move his family to southern California, having had enough of New England's freezing winters and a desire to further his son's yet-to-begin music career.
Yes, they'd only just begun.
Though Harold had a move on his mind as early as 1955, it would not be until eight years later that he activated his decision and moved his family to Downey, California...an L.A. suburb close enough to afford Richard opportunities to develop his career, yet far enough away from the hedonistic superficiality often associated with the City of Angels, even then.
In 1964, Karen finally developed a feel for music when she took up the drums, after the flute and accordion had gone nowhere. Richard by this time, was slowly making a name for himself and eventually, Karen began to tag along.
They eventually evolved into Spectrum, and the Richard Carpenter Trio. Then finally, a demo tape made by a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, found its way to Herb Alpert's desk at A&M Records.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
But what if?
Woulda, shoulda, coulda.
What if Harold and Agnes Carpenter decided to stay in New Haven? What would their children become?
Richard likely would have still found a career in music. Either as a teacher, or making the relatively short drive to New York City for more. After all, there was the famed "Brill Building", which gave birth to the talents of the likes of Gerry Goffin, Carole King, Neil Sedaka, and other gifted songwriters.
One thing I've learned about New York City, is that it's far more real and much more accepting of outsiders than its cross-coastal sister. Just about anyone can blend in. Fad dieting and obsession with physical appearance doesn't seem to be the mainstay. At least not as much as L.A.
And Karen was very much 'one of the guys', if you were to ask anyone around her growing up. She loved sports, eating junk food and sweets, but could still be the girly-girl if need be.
She was very much the quintessential All-American girl. Unfortunately, the Midwest Farmers' Daughters all undergo a morph of some type once landing on the West Coast. She was certainly no exception.
Thin was in. She had all but mastered the techniques of the expert anorexic, when it came to willingly deprive her body of the food it needed to fuel itself. She felt this was the sacrifice she needed to make if she was to be at the center of attention onstage...and sadly enough, offstage.
What if the all-American girl stayed in New Haven?
Maybe the Carpenters could still have been a possibility. They do have recording studios in New York City too, ya know.
I would have seen her as settling down, having two or three kids, and relishing the thought of being a stay-at-home mom. Desperate for children, she abhorred the thought of having a child in her line of work and then turning them over to a nanny. She saw her short-lived marriage to real estate developer Tom Burris as a springboard to that future. However, those closest to her were less optimistic.
To Richard, the marriage "didn't have a snowball's chance in Hell of working."
"Because We Are in Love", penned by brother Richard and longtime songwriting partner John Burris, seemed to be an answer to those asking "Why, Karen?"
Karen herself wavered in going through with the ceremony, because her knight in shining armor turned out to be a pig in a poorly disguised blanket, revealing just days prior to their nuptials that he had undergone a vasectomy some time ago. It was also discovered that the real estate tycoon, hiding behind expensive homes and cars, was barely able to keep his head above water, and burned through his new wife's fortune very quickly in failed real estate ventures.
Trying to survive in a 'thin-is-in' culture. An emotionally detached and domineering mother who openly favored her talented older brother. Pressure to fight stage fright as she was now the front of their act. A flim-flam man of a husband. An aborted solo album that cost her (and her brother) almost half a million dollars to produce, charged against future Carpenters album sales royalties.
It was life in the fast lane to a girl clearly more comfortable with the scenic route.
We will never know what your family has gone through since your passing. We have been blessed with the legacy you left behind. The same legacy that rock and roll visionaries later took notice of and saw the contributions you made to pop music. So much so that a compilation CD of covers by modern rock bands was subsequently released in 1994, and your solo album finally became released two years later, as you originally approved it. It was truly a masterpiece way ahead of its time.
Thank you.
What more needs to be said?
NEXT WEEK:
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Sunday, February 9, 2014
If I Were A Carpenter...Part I
They were praised and ridiculed. They were hip yet square. They were simple yet complex. In short, they were everything you could find in any other popular music act at that time.
In their case, it was all a matter of presentation.
This past week marked the 31st anniversary of the passing of Karen Anne Carpenter. At 32, she succumbed to complications arising from anorexia nervosa, which few people had heard of until the news of her death spread worldwide.
I was 13 when it happened on February 4, 1983.
I was returning home from the Super Dollar grocery store with my father, who was nursing a back injury after tripping over a telephone line cord at work that day. We had the radio on and heard "Close to You" broadcast over 3WS, then an adult contemporary formatted station before switching to oldies in 1988. The DJ came on the air and back-announced the record, played "in memory of Karen Carpenter...Karen died this morning at the age of 32."
My dad and I looked at each other with widened eyes. We were both distraught.
We came home and asked my mother if she saw anything on the news. Her jaw dropped and she gasped. The story was obviously still developing.
My parents were Top 40 radio people. What they listened to, I listened to as well. Therefore, I had grown fond of acts like Fleetwood Mac, the Bee Gees, the Eagles, Chicago, America, James Taylor, Jim Croce, Harry Chapin and Carly Simon.
And yes, the Carpenters. We had the 8-track of their Greatest Hits album, "The Singles 1969-73" released in 1974. Plus some of their other albums.
I found myself listening to more of their music, and gaining a new appreciation for it during my teen years. I was spending allowance money on 45's and albums bearing their name.
For Christmas of 1985, I asked for and received "Yesterday Once More", which was a VHS montage of film and videotape performances they had made of their hit songs back in the days that predated not just MTV, but cable television as we know it. Such films were usually produced by record labels to sell product to record store buyers and influence concert bookings.
I had brought the tape in for a classmate to borrow at high school one day, as she was a fan. Others seeing me with it asked what it was. Then they asked if they too could borrow it for the night.
All told, the tape ended up in probably a couple dozen VCRs in the first three months I had it.
And oddly enough, some students who asked me to borrow it looked as if they'd rather be caught dead listening to a Lawrence Welk Christmas album before anything from the Carpenters.
Students watched it with their parents. Teachers watched it with their families, explaining who Karen Carpenter was and what she and her brother Richard brought to the world.
Some even cried, seeing the New Haven, Connecticut native zigzag between 110 and 80 pounds throughout her professional career, and the montage of family photos at the final video on the tape set to "Close to You".
Until recently, I had no luck in finding this presentation on DVD. It recently resurfaced as "Carpenters Gold", the same identical product repackaged under a different name.
And next paycheck, it will find its way into my DVD library.
NEXT WEEK: Part II
In their case, it was all a matter of presentation.
This past week marked the 31st anniversary of the passing of Karen Anne Carpenter. At 32, she succumbed to complications arising from anorexia nervosa, which few people had heard of until the news of her death spread worldwide.
I was 13 when it happened on February 4, 1983.
I was returning home from the Super Dollar grocery store with my father, who was nursing a back injury after tripping over a telephone line cord at work that day. We had the radio on and heard "Close to You" broadcast over 3WS, then an adult contemporary formatted station before switching to oldies in 1988. The DJ came on the air and back-announced the record, played "in memory of Karen Carpenter...Karen died this morning at the age of 32."
My dad and I looked at each other with widened eyes. We were both distraught.
We came home and asked my mother if she saw anything on the news. Her jaw dropped and she gasped. The story was obviously still developing.
My parents were Top 40 radio people. What they listened to, I listened to as well. Therefore, I had grown fond of acts like Fleetwood Mac, the Bee Gees, the Eagles, Chicago, America, James Taylor, Jim Croce, Harry Chapin and Carly Simon.
And yes, the Carpenters. We had the 8-track of their Greatest Hits album, "The Singles 1969-73" released in 1974. Plus some of their other albums.
I found myself listening to more of their music, and gaining a new appreciation for it during my teen years. I was spending allowance money on 45's and albums bearing their name.
For Christmas of 1985, I asked for and received "Yesterday Once More", which was a VHS montage of film and videotape performances they had made of their hit songs back in the days that predated not just MTV, but cable television as we know it. Such films were usually produced by record labels to sell product to record store buyers and influence concert bookings.
I had brought the tape in for a classmate to borrow at high school one day, as she was a fan. Others seeing me with it asked what it was. Then they asked if they too could borrow it for the night.
All told, the tape ended up in probably a couple dozen VCRs in the first three months I had it.
And oddly enough, some students who asked me to borrow it looked as if they'd rather be caught dead listening to a Lawrence Welk Christmas album before anything from the Carpenters.
Students watched it with their parents. Teachers watched it with their families, explaining who Karen Carpenter was and what she and her brother Richard brought to the world.
Some even cried, seeing the New Haven, Connecticut native zigzag between 110 and 80 pounds throughout her professional career, and the montage of family photos at the final video on the tape set to "Close to You".
Until recently, I had no luck in finding this presentation on DVD. It recently resurfaced as "Carpenters Gold", the same identical product repackaged under a different name.
And next paycheck, it will find its way into my DVD library.
NEXT WEEK: Part II
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Weather Whoas
Who in my home base of western Pennsylvania is sick and tired of this weather?
Frigid temperatures since the week after New Year's. Then milder. Then frigid again. The volume of snow ebbs and flows.
Back in the late 70's, when my younger brother and I enjoyed playing outside in this stuff, it was at least a foot deep, and the thermometer usually hovered between the lower to upper 20s. You usually didn't see grass between New Year's Eve and the second week of March.
Today marks the annual event where people congregate to the their radios and TVs to hear the prediction given by a groundhog in a small town in northwest Pennsylvania. Six more weeks of winter, or an early spring?
In a world of Doppler 4,000,000, state-of-the-art weather systems from dozens of satellites orbiting the earth, we turn to a woodchuck one day out of the year for his prediction.
Having been professionally connected to Punxsutawney for five years as a broadcaster, I've learned many things about this little town of about 5,500 residents, including its most famous one.
Speaking ill of the groundhog in ANY way will get you run out of town on a rail. I'm not even close to kidding on that one.
Just about every businessman in town is involved in the Groundhog Club (caretakers of Punxsutawney Phil) Inner Circle. They know secrets they will take to their graves...and have.
It's one of the friendliest towns I've ever had the pleasure of working in.
Danny Rubin (who wrote the screenplay to "Groundhog Day" starring Bill Murray and Andie McDowell) is very accessible and a great interview.
The town's population swells to approximately 20,000 on the day of the prediction. In some cases, retail businesses in town earn enough revenue to sustain them until next year. Or at least until the summer groundhog festival. Didn't know there was one of those now, did you?
Local media are the daily newspaper and radio stations...and they work well with each other, albeit on an often shaky truce. You won't see that in many other towns.
The school district has no metal detectors or internal drug problems of any kind. You can send your kids to a school where they know they're going to be safe.
Punxsutawney Phil's predictions have NEVER been wrong. Just ask any of the townsfolk.
The residents of Punxsutawney have mixed feelings of Groundhog Day. Some welcome it with open arms, while others stay behind locked doors until February 3rd.
Phil receives frequent veterinary care. Even if he nips one of his handlers, they're in the clear.
To this day, I miss the town and interacting with its people.
However, I look forward to the visits.
One of which I hope to share with my daughter this year.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, Phil says...drum roll, please...
Six more weeks of this stuff.
NEXT WEEK: If She Weren't A Carpenter
Frigid temperatures since the week after New Year's. Then milder. Then frigid again. The volume of snow ebbs and flows.
Back in the late 70's, when my younger brother and I enjoyed playing outside in this stuff, it was at least a foot deep, and the thermometer usually hovered between the lower to upper 20s. You usually didn't see grass between New Year's Eve and the second week of March.
Today marks the annual event where people congregate to the their radios and TVs to hear the prediction given by a groundhog in a small town in northwest Pennsylvania. Six more weeks of winter, or an early spring?
In a world of Doppler 4,000,000, state-of-the-art weather systems from dozens of satellites orbiting the earth, we turn to a woodchuck one day out of the year for his prediction.
Having been professionally connected to Punxsutawney for five years as a broadcaster, I've learned many things about this little town of about 5,500 residents, including its most famous one.
Speaking ill of the groundhog in ANY way will get you run out of town on a rail. I'm not even close to kidding on that one.
Just about every businessman in town is involved in the Groundhog Club (caretakers of Punxsutawney Phil) Inner Circle. They know secrets they will take to their graves...and have.
It's one of the friendliest towns I've ever had the pleasure of working in.
Danny Rubin (who wrote the screenplay to "Groundhog Day" starring Bill Murray and Andie McDowell) is very accessible and a great interview.
The town's population swells to approximately 20,000 on the day of the prediction. In some cases, retail businesses in town earn enough revenue to sustain them until next year. Or at least until the summer groundhog festival. Didn't know there was one of those now, did you?
Local media are the daily newspaper and radio stations...and they work well with each other, albeit on an often shaky truce. You won't see that in many other towns.
The school district has no metal detectors or internal drug problems of any kind. You can send your kids to a school where they know they're going to be safe.
Punxsutawney Phil's predictions have NEVER been wrong. Just ask any of the townsfolk.
The residents of Punxsutawney have mixed feelings of Groundhog Day. Some welcome it with open arms, while others stay behind locked doors until February 3rd.
Phil receives frequent veterinary care. Even if he nips one of his handlers, they're in the clear.
To this day, I miss the town and interacting with its people.
However, I look forward to the visits.
One of which I hope to share with my daughter this year.
Oh, and in case you're wondering, Phil says...drum roll, please...
Six more weeks of this stuff.
NEXT WEEK: If She Weren't A Carpenter
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Rage Against the Machine
No, I won't be talking about the 90's Alternative rock band, but rather the political climate and the growing anger surrounding it.
A couple weeks ago, I posted a story where a college professor conducted an experiment upon his own students, who were convinced that socialism was good for society. He used the concept of need-based distribution and gave better students a lower grade while under-performers a higher grade. I found it amusing and posted it.
Because what professor hasn't drawn the ire of a student? How many of you have taken a class to find it was nothing at all what you imagined, then not doing as well as you would have hoped for because of it?
An English II class I took in college turned out to be more closely related to a World Cultures class with the focus on China. For our term paper, we had to pick a select topic about China and then write about it. I had to write on the three religions closely associated with China prior to Communist control. This was an English class?
But unfortunately, this is part of the college dynamic. The things you learn that one says aren't taught in school...at least directly. You learn that life isn't always fair, and you quite often need to play by someone else's rules if you intend to stay in the game.
And right or wrong, I feel the present generation and the one before it has been coddled too much.
The article I posted quickly drew the anger, if not unbridled rage, of a former colleague who self-identifies as a liberal Democrat who is quick to speak up about President Obama and every facet of his administration should anyone disrespect it in any way. So he let fly.
"It makes it hard to take anything you say politically seriously,"
Political?
I don't use my column nor my social media walls as platforms for politics. At least I try not to. Yet some people use every avenue they can to push a political agenda.
I am a registered Republican, but I have supported much of President Obama's policies. I supported his decision to not pull troops out of the Middle East and finish what President Bush started. I supported the economic bailout as well, because without it, the end result would have made the Great Depression look like a gumball machine robbery.
I also know Democrats who became strong Bush supporters after September 11, 2001. I vote my conscience, not a political party.
If you want my political stand on anything, you can always ask me directly. And most recently, I've been asked of my stand on the Affordable Health Care Act, or "Obamacare". This was the end result of what I had posted.
I don't support it in its current form. That's my opinion, based on facts, and we all know that facts can be interpreted in all kinds of ways. This is what keeps lawyers busy...and rich.
One person's opinion...mine. You don't like it, get over it.
Get mad at me. Defriend me on Facebook. That's my stand. It won't be swayed.
That said, have a good day.
NEXT WEEK: Columnist's Choice
A couple weeks ago, I posted a story where a college professor conducted an experiment upon his own students, who were convinced that socialism was good for society. He used the concept of need-based distribution and gave better students a lower grade while under-performers a higher grade. I found it amusing and posted it.
Because what professor hasn't drawn the ire of a student? How many of you have taken a class to find it was nothing at all what you imagined, then not doing as well as you would have hoped for because of it?
An English II class I took in college turned out to be more closely related to a World Cultures class with the focus on China. For our term paper, we had to pick a select topic about China and then write about it. I had to write on the three religions closely associated with China prior to Communist control. This was an English class?
But unfortunately, this is part of the college dynamic. The things you learn that one says aren't taught in school...at least directly. You learn that life isn't always fair, and you quite often need to play by someone else's rules if you intend to stay in the game.
And right or wrong, I feel the present generation and the one before it has been coddled too much.
The article I posted quickly drew the anger, if not unbridled rage, of a former colleague who self-identifies as a liberal Democrat who is quick to speak up about President Obama and every facet of his administration should anyone disrespect it in any way. So he let fly.
"It makes it hard to take anything you say politically seriously,"
Political?
I don't use my column nor my social media walls as platforms for politics. At least I try not to. Yet some people use every avenue they can to push a political agenda.
I am a registered Republican, but I have supported much of President Obama's policies. I supported his decision to not pull troops out of the Middle East and finish what President Bush started. I supported the economic bailout as well, because without it, the end result would have made the Great Depression look like a gumball machine robbery.
I also know Democrats who became strong Bush supporters after September 11, 2001. I vote my conscience, not a political party.
If you want my political stand on anything, you can always ask me directly. And most recently, I've been asked of my stand on the Affordable Health Care Act, or "Obamacare". This was the end result of what I had posted.
I don't support it in its current form. That's my opinion, based on facts, and we all know that facts can be interpreted in all kinds of ways. This is what keeps lawyers busy...and rich.
One person's opinion...mine. You don't like it, get over it.
Get mad at me. Defriend me on Facebook. That's my stand. It won't be swayed.
That said, have a good day.
NEXT WEEK: Columnist's Choice
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Picture This
They say a picture is worth a thousand words.
I disagree.
They're worth at the very minimum, a thousand sentences. The only problem is, there's just not enough words in the English language to say enough about that picture.
Especially when it's of your child.
Very few things can capture your heart and mind like a well-taken photograph of your young son or daughter.
Just before Christmas, my brother-in-law and his wife surprised my wife and I with a framed photo of our daughter, who will be five this coming July.
The photo was taken during an overnight stay that our Savannah had with Christian and Melissa's son and daughter. They took one of her alone, then another one with her and her cousins, Alex and Mia.
We had no idea that this was being done. They bought her a new black dress and styled her hair to perfection. The end result in the frame was nothing short of priceless.
The little girl's image that stared back at me gave me a glimpse into the future.
Margie and I want nothing but the best for our child, the same as any parent. They say it's what's inside that counts, but the outward appeal is definitely an added bonus.
Could my little girl be brains and beauty?
One can only hope so.
As excited as I am to see the end result of what she will ultimately grow up to be, I find myself reluctant to let her do so.
While I do want her to grow up to be smart and successful, it also means letting her make her own mistakes. Making her own decisions. In short, allowing her to be open to the cruel reality of what it's like to live in this world.
She will be lied to. She will be taken advantage of. She will have her heart broken at least once in her lifetime.
We fathers can only take them in our arms only so many times before a simple cuddle just doesn't do the job anymore...because the problems get far more complex as they grow.
But as I see that chubby-cheeked little face, now on a much larger canvas version of that same photo, I know she's going to be just fine.
That doesn't mean I'll ever stop worrying though.
After all, I am her father.
NEXT WEEK: Why so angry?
I disagree.
They're worth at the very minimum, a thousand sentences. The only problem is, there's just not enough words in the English language to say enough about that picture.
Especially when it's of your child.
Very few things can capture your heart and mind like a well-taken photograph of your young son or daughter.
Just before Christmas, my brother-in-law and his wife surprised my wife and I with a framed photo of our daughter, who will be five this coming July.
The photo was taken during an overnight stay that our Savannah had with Christian and Melissa's son and daughter. They took one of her alone, then another one with her and her cousins, Alex and Mia.
We had no idea that this was being done. They bought her a new black dress and styled her hair to perfection. The end result in the frame was nothing short of priceless.
The little girl's image that stared back at me gave me a glimpse into the future.
Margie and I want nothing but the best for our child, the same as any parent. They say it's what's inside that counts, but the outward appeal is definitely an added bonus.
Could my little girl be brains and beauty?
One can only hope so.
As excited as I am to see the end result of what she will ultimately grow up to be, I find myself reluctant to let her do so.
While I do want her to grow up to be smart and successful, it also means letting her make her own mistakes. Making her own decisions. In short, allowing her to be open to the cruel reality of what it's like to live in this world.
She will be lied to. She will be taken advantage of. She will have her heart broken at least once in her lifetime.
We fathers can only take them in our arms only so many times before a simple cuddle just doesn't do the job anymore...because the problems get far more complex as they grow.
But as I see that chubby-cheeked little face, now on a much larger canvas version of that same photo, I know she's going to be just fine.
That doesn't mean I'll ever stop worrying though.
After all, I am her father.
NEXT WEEK: Why so angry?
Sunday, January 12, 2014
"Fighting Words"
Most of you know I've spent most of my life in radio. So I'll have to ask your forgiveness as I indulge in the words of one of my many esteemed colleagues over the years.
Today it's the late Douglas Hoerth.
"Uncle Dougie" to those of us who knew him.
While Doug was a jock who played music on the radio in the early days of his career, he came to reinvent himself years later as a popular talk show host in Pittsburgh on the former 1250 WTAE.
In a series of TV commercials, he and other hosts communicated how they felt talk radio should be for its average listener.
"You can make them happy, you can make them sad," Doug said. "Sometimes you can even make them think."
I have always viewed music in the same light, and some of those songs can be completely thought-provoking.
John Ondrasik, the one-man band known as "Five For Fighting" is a great example of this. While he's been derided by some critics as a "one-trick pony", I'd like to see anyone out there come remotely close to what he's accomplished as an artist.
While I like his music, I have a hard time listening to it, because it's that thought-provoking. At least it is to me, anyway.
"Superman" is told as a first-person narrative from the would-be thoughts of the Man of Steel that are never verbalized, that show the human side of the native Kryptonian.
"Even heroes have the right to dream," "a home I'll never see", "it's not easy to be me".
Would Superman ever get sick of defending Metropolis time and time again? Would he feel compelled to break Lex Luthor's neck with his bare hands to put an end to his evil ambitions once and for all? Just so he could get some peace and quiet?
Then there's another song..."The Riddle". I have an especially hard time with this one.
"There's a reason for the world...you and I". "We're all we've got on this bouncing ball".
From a religious perspective, if God created Man in his own image, are we behaving in a godly manner to our fellow creatures? Or from a secular perspective, are we respecting everyone's right to exist? Or do we see ourselves as more fit to live than others because they don't share our beliefs and values?
More importantly, what's the message we're passing along to the next generation through our own example? Are we teaching our children compassion, or 'kill or be killed'?
Pensions are disappearing. Health care is being treated as a luxury instead of a necessity. Companies prioritize profits over people and don't mince words about it. Virtue has become a liability rather than reward. We celebrate money over morality. We confuse need with want and fill our lives with possessions that we believe will make us happy for another day, until we tire of it and decide we want more. And more.
Don't get me started on those who worship 'scripted-reality' TV and talent shows, looking to be the next big star.
There are those who choose to get their news from "The Daily Show" or "Weekend Update", rather than CBS, ABC or NBC. By the way, if you ever want 'real' news, watch a BBC newscast. You'll learn of the world that exists out of the U.S. that our country seems to turn a blind eye to more and more with each passing day.
So why are we all here?
Well...here's a riddle for ya.
Find the answer.
There's a reason for the world.
You and I.
NEXT WEEK: Picture Perfect
Today it's the late Douglas Hoerth.
"Uncle Dougie" to those of us who knew him.
While Doug was a jock who played music on the radio in the early days of his career, he came to reinvent himself years later as a popular talk show host in Pittsburgh on the former 1250 WTAE.
In a series of TV commercials, he and other hosts communicated how they felt talk radio should be for its average listener.
"You can make them happy, you can make them sad," Doug said. "Sometimes you can even make them think."
I have always viewed music in the same light, and some of those songs can be completely thought-provoking.
John Ondrasik, the one-man band known as "Five For Fighting" is a great example of this. While he's been derided by some critics as a "one-trick pony", I'd like to see anyone out there come remotely close to what he's accomplished as an artist.
While I like his music, I have a hard time listening to it, because it's that thought-provoking. At least it is to me, anyway.
"Superman" is told as a first-person narrative from the would-be thoughts of the Man of Steel that are never verbalized, that show the human side of the native Kryptonian.
"Even heroes have the right to dream," "a home I'll never see", "it's not easy to be me".
Would Superman ever get sick of defending Metropolis time and time again? Would he feel compelled to break Lex Luthor's neck with his bare hands to put an end to his evil ambitions once and for all? Just so he could get some peace and quiet?
Then there's another song..."The Riddle". I have an especially hard time with this one.
"There's a reason for the world...you and I". "We're all we've got on this bouncing ball".
From a religious perspective, if God created Man in his own image, are we behaving in a godly manner to our fellow creatures? Or from a secular perspective, are we respecting everyone's right to exist? Or do we see ourselves as more fit to live than others because they don't share our beliefs and values?
More importantly, what's the message we're passing along to the next generation through our own example? Are we teaching our children compassion, or 'kill or be killed'?
Pensions are disappearing. Health care is being treated as a luxury instead of a necessity. Companies prioritize profits over people and don't mince words about it. Virtue has become a liability rather than reward. We celebrate money over morality. We confuse need with want and fill our lives with possessions that we believe will make us happy for another day, until we tire of it and decide we want more. And more.
Don't get me started on those who worship 'scripted-reality' TV and talent shows, looking to be the next big star.
There are those who choose to get their news from "The Daily Show" or "Weekend Update", rather than CBS, ABC or NBC. By the way, if you ever want 'real' news, watch a BBC newscast. You'll learn of the world that exists out of the U.S. that our country seems to turn a blind eye to more and more with each passing day.
So why are we all here?
Well...here's a riddle for ya.
Find the answer.
There's a reason for the world.
You and I.
NEXT WEEK: Picture Perfect
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Reflections and Resolutions
Well, here we go again. That time of year.
Some of you may feel that I need to make a resolution...not to stray away from my promised column each week. Valid argument, yes, but this time I have a good excuse.
My wife is forever calling me a "PC lover", "Windows lover", whatever have you, because while she's embraced her MacBook as the leading technology, I still cling to the archaic vintage 2004 laptop that I rescued from the curb when she adopted the MacBook.
Most recently, it exhibited signs of involuntary retirement, so to speak, enough to the point where my wife actually surprised me Christmas morning with a shiny new Dell Inspiron 15, courtesy of my corporate discount at work.
So I spent much of my time between Christmas and New Year's migrating files from the old HP to the new Dell. Not a speedy process by any means.
And, I no longer have an excuse to take an unannounced break from my weekly warblings that I will carry into 2014.
I look for 2014 to be a year of personal renewal, revival and reward.
Not much change than in previous years, all that matters is the outcome, and how I will accomplish those goals or deal with the adversity if things don't go according to plan.
And it's the latter that often happens, according to John Lennon.
"Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans".
As I look out of the window from my new laptop, I gaze upon the winter landscape, and the promise of sunshine in the coming months.
How will I make the most of those days? Or even the days now, however cold and dreary it may look outside?
I tend to think of this a lot more in my advancing years, as I pay more attention to those around me. I see friends and acquaintances fighting terminal illness, family members aging, colleagues trying to find ways to rebuild their lives after losing their jobs, and what used to be 'little ones' finally growing up and planning their futures after high school.
Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" comes to mind right now.
Have I truly "gone forth" spiritually, as Jacob Marley insisted Ebenezer Scrooge do during his time on Earth? Have I truly reached out to my fellow creatures?
And if not, why? Has life truly gotten in the way of it, or am I using it as an excuse to put it off until tomorrow?
Tomorrow.
My mind travels back to one February night back in the studio of 104.7 in Pittsburgh, almost 23 years ago when I was making my major market radio debut.
The cleaning staff was making its rounds to the different offices in the building, emptying the wastebaskets into the big can that would soon find its way to the dumpster on the side of the building.
"Where's Ed?" asked the African-American gentleman, likely in his mid to early 50's.
I relayed to him that "Ed" had passed away the week before, receiving the incredulous look in return.
"He wasn't too old...what did he die of?" he asked.
A heart attack is what took the broadcast legend's life at 56.
The man shook his head sadly, but managed a smile, nonetheless.
"Tomorrow's promised to no one," he said before turning around to move on to the next office.
I thought a lot about that. I still do.
I don't think I'll ever stop.
NEXT WEEK: A Reason for the World
Some of you may feel that I need to make a resolution...not to stray away from my promised column each week. Valid argument, yes, but this time I have a good excuse.
My wife is forever calling me a "PC lover", "Windows lover", whatever have you, because while she's embraced her MacBook as the leading technology, I still cling to the archaic vintage 2004 laptop that I rescued from the curb when she adopted the MacBook.
Most recently, it exhibited signs of involuntary retirement, so to speak, enough to the point where my wife actually surprised me Christmas morning with a shiny new Dell Inspiron 15, courtesy of my corporate discount at work.
So I spent much of my time between Christmas and New Year's migrating files from the old HP to the new Dell. Not a speedy process by any means.
And, I no longer have an excuse to take an unannounced break from my weekly warblings that I will carry into 2014.
I look for 2014 to be a year of personal renewal, revival and reward.
Not much change than in previous years, all that matters is the outcome, and how I will accomplish those goals or deal with the adversity if things don't go according to plan.
And it's the latter that often happens, according to John Lennon.
"Life is what happens to you while you're making other plans".
As I look out of the window from my new laptop, I gaze upon the winter landscape, and the promise of sunshine in the coming months.
How will I make the most of those days? Or even the days now, however cold and dreary it may look outside?
I tend to think of this a lot more in my advancing years, as I pay more attention to those around me. I see friends and acquaintances fighting terminal illness, family members aging, colleagues trying to find ways to rebuild their lives after losing their jobs, and what used to be 'little ones' finally growing up and planning their futures after high school.
Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" comes to mind right now.
Have I truly "gone forth" spiritually, as Jacob Marley insisted Ebenezer Scrooge do during his time on Earth? Have I truly reached out to my fellow creatures?
And if not, why? Has life truly gotten in the way of it, or am I using it as an excuse to put it off until tomorrow?
Tomorrow.
My mind travels back to one February night back in the studio of 104.7 in Pittsburgh, almost 23 years ago when I was making my major market radio debut.
The cleaning staff was making its rounds to the different offices in the building, emptying the wastebaskets into the big can that would soon find its way to the dumpster on the side of the building.
"Where's Ed?" asked the African-American gentleman, likely in his mid to early 50's.
I relayed to him that "Ed" had passed away the week before, receiving the incredulous look in return.
"He wasn't too old...what did he die of?" he asked.
A heart attack is what took the broadcast legend's life at 56.
The man shook his head sadly, but managed a smile, nonetheless.
"Tomorrow's promised to no one," he said before turning around to move on to the next office.
I thought a lot about that. I still do.
I don't think I'll ever stop.
NEXT WEEK: A Reason for the World
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